Plants are stupid
by ShreddingRibbons
Summary: Yes, sadly this is a NearXOC. And it's a Christmastime fic! Cause who can resist those? This is post series, so not to worry about adding random characters, just a pure, fluffy fic. With no Mary Sues! I promise! So, who will Near be spending Xmas with?
1. just how much i hate you

Ok, no flames if my OC turns out to be a Mary sue, because if she does I'll just get rid of this. I really hate OCs, and to tell the truth, I'm not too fond of Near either. The ENTIRE reason I wrote this was I bet someone I could after seeing Near's picture at sixteen in the thirteenth book of Death Note. So, here we go!

Disclaimer:the OC is all minez, but the rest is from Death Note and does not belong to me

Web stood outside the door, tapping her foot impatiently. _Where _is_ he?_ the girl thought in annoyance, grinding her teeth. She glanced around the long, varnished hallway, its burgundy wallpaper starting to peel. Electrically lit sconces hung every few feet on the walls, giving off a warm (if somewhat dim) light. Web's eyes followed the rows of doors that lined both sides of the hallway, continuing on and on, and she squinted to see the door at the very end that led into Roger's office.

Finally the door she had been standing in front of opened, and a white-haired head popped out. Near looked at her sleepily, his morning hair curling around his head in a most adorable fashion. Web chewed her lip while thinking this, but then quickly dismissed the thought with a flourish, turning to more important matters.

"Near, _finally_ you're up. Do know how long I have to wait? _**Every single morning?**_" Near just shook his head and emerged from his room completely, stepping out into the hallway barefoot. Fixing his moody brown eyes on her-which looked even moodier in the dim lighting-he gave a slight shrug. Web just frowned and sized him up. Near's snowy tresses were very close to matching his porcelain skin, and his mouth was set in an unimpressed line, dangerously verging on a frown. _He looks like such a child,_ Web thought, looking up at him wearily, _and yet he's at least four inches taller than me. _The white drawstring pajamas he always wore were ridiculously tight on him, much too small for a tall boy of sixteen. Of course she knew why he wore them, they had been a gift from L., and Near had refused to even wash them after his idol's death. L. wasn't even an idol, per say, he was like his father, his only precious thing. _I used to be jealous of him. _Thinking this, Web felt a pang of unsurpassable guilt. When she said "him", she was referring to both of them; Near for having someone to truly care for, and L. for having Nears unrequited love.

Mentally bashing herself for letting her thoughts involuntarily wander, the orphan girl shook her head disapprovingly.

"Near, you are in dire need of new clothing." Near sniffed condescendingly.

"No." Web narrowed her eyes.

"Yes." Near glared at her, voice lowering deliberately.

"No." Web gave him a hard stare. She had known him forever, ever since she had been dropped of at the Wammy House like extra baggage after her parents' death.

She had been sitting on a bench outside, nibbling on her pinky-finger and watching the other kids play. Two children were tossing a ball back and forth, back and forth, and she watched the continuous motion sadly. As the tears welled up the moving ball became a blurred red arc in the air, and she felt a suffocating lump form in her throat. It was large and she was afraid she might choke on it. Before the tears could flow over though, something small and hard hit her in the side of the head. Web's tears cleared instantly as she picked up the object and held it in her hand, looking at it skeptically.

It was a toy, a tiny wooden one, and it had a small face painted on it. Someone had worked very hard to put in all the little details, and it was very delicate-looking.

"Hey you!" a loud voice yelled from her right, jerking her from her brief fascination with the figure. Web turned to see two boys, at least two or three years older than herself. One was blond and wore a shiny leather vest, and the other had red hair, goggles, and a striped shirt on. The blond walked up to her and held out his hand. "Give it." She held the toy close and stuck her tongue out.

"No." she refused, for she had spotted a small, white-haired boy dressed in white pajamas, surrounded by toys much like the one she held in her hand.

"Don't be cocky. Give it or I'll-" before the blond boy could even finish his sentence she balled her fist and knocked him in the chin, standing up on the bench. He clutched his jaw in shock and goggle boy came over to help him.

"You'll what?" she breathed condescendingly, and jumped down from the bench, starting for the boy with the white hair. Web came to a halt in front of him, his steady brown eyes catching the light. Web's heart gave a stubborn jump, but she ignored it. Cautiously she held out the toy.

"This yours? Here, I got it back." For some strange reason she felt as if she was making him look like a wimp. I mean, a girl getting a toy back for a guy can be kind of embarrassing. But he didn't look up at her, he just twirled some of his hair around his finger and stared at his toys, his eyes looking as if they might be searching for something in the armies of tiny tin robots, impossibly tall towers of dice, and things that looked like Rubik's cubes but were in impossible, irregular shapes.

Web stood there silently, watching as he began to rearrange his rubber finger puppets that he had gathered in front of him. Yes, she just stood there, staring as he mixed up the small toys, moving them around with his fingertips, never once looking up.

She sat down cross legged in front of him, toying anxiously with the wooden figurine in her hands. "You've got a lot of them huh?" Web said quietly, touching one of the figures softly with her pointer finger. She saw him glance at her finger quickly, and this made her even more vexed, for at first she had thought perhaps he was blind and deaf, like the American named Helen Keller, but knowing that he could see her and chose to ignore her seriously began to get on her nerves. _I bet you can hear me too._ She thought, beginning to gnaw at her lip. "You know," she said, her voice making her irritation with him obvious, "I bet that even if I knocked over one of your dice towers you still would completely ignore me."

At this (much to Web's surprise) the boy looked up at her, his face unreadable. "I'm right though, aren't I?" she said, her voice almost at a whisper. He remained silent but continued to stare at her, and her face began to itch. But she held his gaze, daring him to look away. She knew she wouldn't be the one to do so, she had no reason. She was not afraid of him, and she was not embarrassed to stare right back at him, challenging him to make a move. "Here, you can have it back." Web said, not breaking his gaze as she began to set it down.

"Keep it." At first she had thought she'd imagined him speaking. He had a really smooth voice that sounded surprisingly mature coming out of him. She swallowed and remained composed, still not looking away.

"I don't need it." To her great triumph the boy finally looked back down and he went back into silence, rearranging the finger puppets once more. She sat there for a few more minutes, seething, and then the girl stood up, brushed herself off, and shoved the small figurine into her pocket. Web, after slight hesitation leaned over and, with one swift motion, flicked the tallest dice tower that was nearly as tall as she was. She watched the tiny spotted cubes roll around after the tower fell, and she felt a smug satisfaction build inside her, although she refused to show it. Web turned one more time as she stormed away to give the strange boy one more look and was shocked to find a miniscule, hardly decipherable thing on his face that very, _very_ faintly resembled a small, amused smile.

After this strange encounter they ran into each other again and again, and every time quite a few snide remarks were exchanged. Somehow, without either of them knowing, they unconsciously became friends. They were a strange pair, always fighting and ruining each other's stuff just to get back at one another, you would think they were enemies, and sure as hell they thought so too. But somehow it didn't turn out that way, and Web's pain over the loss of her parents, which every orphan had, slowly began to scab over.

Web pulled herself back to the present, and found herself reaching inside her pocket to feel the toy, something she thought of as a good luck charm. She had meant to put it on a keychain, but she had just never found the time. Without giving it another thought she turned once again to the task at hand.

"We _are_ buying you new clothes!" Web announced insistently, bringing the pointless argument to a close. They could fight for hours, neither one ever truly winning, and she would have to work quickly to drag him out so he would have no chance to argue with her any longer.

Web took ahold of his sleeve and began to pull him along to the door that led outside.

5 minutes later…

The sunshine

sunshine blinded her eyes as she stepped outside, and it took a moment to adjust to the brightness. Near shielded his face from the burning rays and glared at her, he was not at all happy that she was dragging him with.

"Why are we going grocery shopping in the first place?" he kept his voice at a patient, monotonous level, afraid Web might abuse him if he said something mean. He'd seen what she'd done to kids who got in her way, and it wasn't pretty. Roger had been seriously considering sending her away, but he chose not too because of her rank. She ranked second now that Matt and Mello had passed away, and she could not be turned away from the orphanage, it was made for people like her. It was made _by_ people like her. But she sure didn't act like second, in Roger's eyes, Web was just a brat that he needed to stick somewhere where she could be a help to the world. Where? He had no idea.

"No idea, but why question Roger? Everyone knows he's a quack." Near raised an eyebrow.

"In a bad mood today are we?"

"It's gonna get worse if you keep chewing on my nerves." Near sighed, he liked chewing on her nerves. Actually, he did it all the time.

"You're so predictable Web, your nothing to solve. And you think so highly of yourself too, I'd hate to knock you off your pedestal." Web chomped onto his comment like fish chomp onto bait, but she turned it around for the better.

"Says the egotistical albino who calls himself L." she sighed, cracking her neck to accent her words. "And you even think you've surpassed him." she let out a mocking laugh, letting it out so it stung, "Even Mello wasn't that bad."

It took all Near had in him to keep from gritting his teeth. In his task force, no one would dare talk to him this way. No one in the orphanage either. Not Roger, not anyone. And yet here he was with some prideful jerk who called herself a girl. He would have struck her, but he knew better. He wasn't that kind of person. Silence, it seemed, was what annoyed Web the most, especially from him. Although, that's not to say she was loud or obnoxious, actually she was quite quiet. There were days when she would hardly breathe a word, just flip through her numerous books of fairytales and play bloody games on her laptop. That was Web's thing, fairytales; she had the most ridiculous collection you'd ever see, and she had quite a few bestsellers published, but they were credited to anonymous. Near would never tell her, but he kept one of her story books somewhere in his room (he couldn't exactly remember where) for absolutely no reason at all. The worst thing about releasing those books for Web, though, was that she never got any praise for them. And he knew she wanted it, she was selfish like that. And yet she was selfless as well, because she never mentioned how much she wanted someone to tell her "Good job, this book is amazing." And that's what drove Near _really_ crazy. Why couldn't she just be a brat and be done with it? And that's why he hated her.

L. would have hated her too, he was sure, and he found himself staring at her as they walked, wondering what L. _really _might've thought. She was horrid and loathsome and difficult, but she was also really, _really_ quiet, and Near wished she'd just spew all her annoyingness out, instead of keeping it tucked away like some mental person and keep tap, tap, tapping away at her computer for hours on end and poring over her books at night. He knew where she hid the eye drops that cleared the redness from her eyes each morning, and he inferred she had been using them even before he had seen a glimpse of them one morning while crashing with her in her room. She wasn't a slob either, which annoyed him as well. She was quite tidy, except for her books and computer games. In one corner, just one corner of her room chaos ensued, where uneven stacks of games and books dominated, and your eyes were always drawn to the blind spot of gray. Gray? Yes, gray. Whenever she got a new game she painted the box gray, the same went with books, only it was their covers that were painted. She said the colors irritated her. When she told Near this poked one of his smaller robots so it fell over. Everything was irritating for her, everything was two-sided. She was selfish and selfless. She was tidy but messy. She was loud but then, she hardly spoke. And then you realized she was actually never loud at all, you just felt like she was because she was always glaring, and it wasn't angst from being an orphan or anything else, she was just like that. Near hated it. He was sure L. would've hated it too.

What will happen on the shopping trip? Do you care? Let's hope so. Please, review, cookies for all that actually read this. But, like I said, it is now time to review. Please?


	2. freakjobs in a nutshell

Okie dokie, here we have the second chapter. Let the NearXOC-ness commence!

p.s. cookies for Magette, Spoon Face, and Fanadiction. But! I frown upon all those who refuse to review! REVIEW!

p.p.s. withdrawal your animal urges, flames are not welcome in this here fanfiction.

~*~

Near's thoughts were shattered suddenly when the bus drove up and swung its frost-encrusted doors open for them to step through. _When did she bring us to a bus stop?_ Near though absently as he and Web stepped on and dropped their fare into the money slot. Amazingly enough, they were able to find two seats in the already tightly packed bus. It's_ like a circus in this place._

Web found herself plastered to Near, trying to avoid the shady looking man sitting next to her. His eyes were wide and delirious, red lines marbling the whites. He had an estranged grin on and thick drool was leaking in threads from between his teeth. Hands clasped together he was hunched forward, the brim of his hat pulled low over his face, matting down the tangled tufts of black hair.

Web twirled her own hair nervously, truly frightened even if she was strong. Determined she tried to focus on her face, reflected in the snow covered window across from her.

Black hair reached down to her earlobes, died a steady blue at the tips. Wide eyes sat on either side of her snub nose, leading down to pale lips, a chin, and her long narrow neck. Which, in fact, you couldn't see because it was muffled by her long black and gray scarf. Her old, worn-through suede jacket was wrapped tightly around her, and warm boots came up to her knees. _Damn! _She swore in her head, she had forgotten her gloves.

Near himself was wearing gloves, as well as a hat, scarf, and battered snow boots.

But, no matter the dark-haired girl concentrated, her thoughts always traveled back to the deranged man sitting next to her. Web jumped when she felt Near's hand grip her upper-arm. _Shit. I must look really wimpy if he's getting all protective on me. _And, even as she continued to swear like a drunken sailor up in the place she called her mind, Web felt her heart slowly pull itself into her stomach. She mentally kicked herself thereafter. _What the hell was that?_ She thought angrily, as if she were talking to her obviously confused organ,_ Don't you _ever_ do that again. I am _not_ a schoolgirl in a manga. _This was like her calming exercise, reminding her what she was and what she was not. _I am a Wammy kid. I am second in rank. _She shifted in her seat, stilled unnerved by the awful man sitting next to her, _I am emotionless._ Web hated how this last thought came out resoundingly bitter, but she knew that was the only way to keep her rank, to keep herself alive. _To be alive is to be emotionless. Emotions are for fairytales. Logic is what matters. _Of course, she knew full well she was not emotionless, if she was she would be in Near's shoes (if he had any of course) instead of him. But even then, she knew that was not what she _really_ wanted. What did she really want. As much as she hated to admit it what she really wanted was-

The bus gave a horrid jolt, and the drooling man leaned drunkenly towards her. He had noticed her staring at him. At this he grinned wider, slipping a beefy hand onto thigh suggestively. Now this, this was too much. Without thinking of the consequences Web smashed her hand into his teeth, hard enough to dent a well-made sauce-pan.

Even with this blow the man righted himself, fixing both teens with a bloodshot eye, threatening evil things under his breath. A tooth fell from his gum and fell to the floor, bouncing a few inches before stopping. Another one followed that one. All in all, Drooly lost two teeth from crossing Web, the aggressive Wammy orphan. Yeah, she liked that title.

Near himself was quite embarrassed over the whole thing. At the next stop, he jumped up, grabbed his companion by the arm and hurried off the bus, muttering a quick "thank you" to the driver as he went.

He turned and sighed in relief as the bus drove away, happy to be off that death vehicle to hell. It was like the Mystery Machine gone terribly, terribly wrong.

"Oh goody." Web said these words in monotone, but even so she truly was pleased. Near turned to see what the dunce was "oh goody"-ing about. There, stretching in front of him in all its glory, was the market.

"How convenient." He couldn't help it, sarcasm was his thing.

"Well, we might as well get a move on." She cast him a look that he wasn't too fond of, "task number one: get you knew clothes." Near opened his mouth to protest but she was already yanking him along, zooming through the throng of people that were milling around. "Christmas shopping galore." Web called back at him as he stumbled after her, grumbling quick apologies to the countless people he was being thrown into. She gave him yet another distasteful look, swishing daintily through a narrow crack in the pulsing crowd. "Not that you'd buy anyone something." The small break in the crowd she had just slipped through instantly closed, jerking him from Web's grasp. At least six people bashed into him, and he fell, hitting the ground hard.

He felt and arm wrap around his own, pulling him up anxiously from the ground, and suddenly _pop!_ they were out. It was Web who had helped him up and out of the mass, and she pulled over to the fountain in the middle of the square, helping him sit down. Only then did he feel the sharp pain piercing his lower lip.

"I'm sorry." She muttered, but she wasn't looking at him, she was already pulling a pack of tissues out of her pocket. "I should've waited. And now you've got a cut." She licked a corner of the Kleenex as she said this, and he was genuinely shocked at how sorry she really did sound. For the first time since they left the throng she met his eyes, something, he had found, she did very often. He even thought she liked doing it. "Now stand still." Her gaze flicked back to his lip as she dabbed it with the tissue, wiping at the stream of slowly-flowing blood. Near quickly found his voice.

"Ow! And you licked that." She looked up again, frowning.

"Its just saliva Near, grow up."

"Speaks the person who did this to me."

"I told you I was sorry! And it's not that bad either. See? It's already clotted." She stepped back to admire her handy work. As she stood there, examining his swelling lip, she licked a smudge of his blood from her thumb absently, squinting to see if it really was healing. He felt a shiver crawl down his back as he watched her lick the blood from her finger, and suddenly he frightened himself. _What that just a shiver of…desire? _He shivered again, this time out of self-disgust. _Something's wrong with me. But then, isn't this sort of thing perfectly natural for maturing teen boys?_

"-to the shop" he looked up, only catching the last of Web's sentence.

"What?"

"You really should listen more." She scolded, glaring at him and rubbing her cold hands together. "I _said_; if you're feeling better we'd best make our way to the clothing shop." Near remained silent for a moment.

"Yes, yes we should." And so they did.

~*~

(in the clothing store) A tall lady with a cloth strap draped around her neck for measuring came up to them. Large, horn-rimmed glasses sat on her nose, making her look young. She smiled a charming smile as they trudged up to her.

"May I help you?" her voice sounded like Christmas bells. Web swallowed her jealousy.

"This one needs new clothes." She replied, sticking her thumb in Near's direction. Near's expression was utterly offended. The lady, whose nametag said "Martha", looked the white-haired boy up and down.

The sleeves of his pajamas constricted his arms, which, in the recent years, had grown terribly long. Near had stopped trying to do up the buttons long ago so his shirt hung open, revealing his chest. His pants were much too tight, and so short they climbed to his knees. Martha "tsk, tsk"-ed dramatically.

"You're right, he _will_ need new clothes." At this she began to lead the horrified-looking Near towards the dressing rooms.

"Have fun!" she called after them, snickering at her companion's misfortune. Whistling softly she wandered into the forest of clothes racks, walking along the shelves stacked high with scarves made of fuzzy material.

She ran her hand over a pile of sweaters, sighing wistfully. Children at the Wammy house usually didn't buy their own clothes, actually, they were encouraged now to, and she felt so horribly restricted.

Web heard a door open somewhere near the back; the changing room. Near and Martha walked out, Near clutching something that looked like clothing.

"What'd you choose?" Web asked, strolling over to the two of them as casually as she could.

"This." He held out his arms and Web sighed in exasperation, her arms going limp at her sides and her shoulders slumping in disappointment.

"_Neeeeeeeear!"_ in his hands he held two sets of white drawstring pajamas, identical to the much smaller ones that L had given him. In his size, of course.

Near turned on his heal, not wanting to here Web's lecture on clothing, and walked coolly to the checkout counter.

Martha smiled at him as she put his purchase in a bag and he nodded, a solemn expression set on his face. Web turned her head back and forth in confusion. _What is with these two?_ Near ignored her plain cluelessness.

Giving up Web sighed and, dragging Near out of the shop, said a quick thank you to Martha as she did.

~*~

Stuff gets more serious after this chapter so get ready! Sadly enough, this chapter is over so it's time to….review! I'm not fond of flames; please scream at me nicely, criticism is always welcome! ^^ the more reviews I get, the faster I'll release the next chapter.

-Valkyrie


	3. when the whole world is white

I finally got around to releasing the third chapter. When I don't get reviews I don't release chapter as quickly, just a warning. Oh, and this is sort of a song chapter, listen to Memories by Within Temptation on YouTube, it's good. Onward into all that is Near and OC!

~*~

The winter sun had begun to set, spreading the pastel oranges, yellows, reds, and pinks around it, the last of the overcast sky becoming colorful as the sun sank low in the west. _Like a great ball of fire._ Web thought, continuously glancing over her shoulder to watch the frozen sunset.

They were walking home now, hands full of plastic grocery bags. To Near's surprise Web was humming softly, her eyes nearly closed, bobbing her head slightly to the tune. No accidents had happened on the bus on the way back and now they trudged on the ground, a steady snow falling slowly around them.

The white-haired boy listened to the tune, not sounding at all familiar. He had never really heard her singing/humming voice, but it sounded nice, sounded comfortable. Near wanted to hear it.

"Sing it." It was a risk to ask, since she was rarely like this, rarely ever showed her practically nonexistent gentle side.

"Sing what?" Near was amazed she even responded.

"Sing…what you were humming just now……please." She gave him a sidelong glance, studying to see if he was really serious, and eventually started humming again. And then, to Near's sole amazement, she began to sing.

"_In this world you tried, not leaving me alone behind._

_There's no other way, I'll pray to the gods, let him stay._

_The memories ease the pain inside, now I know why._

_All of my memories keep you near._

_It's all about us, imagine you'd be here." _ She continued to sing, her voice echoing softly in the empty streets. He closed his eyes, just listening to Web's voice, trying to understand the words, to understand what they meant. And yet, no matter how he tried, he could not. Near finally stopped analyzing the lyrics and simply _listened,_ listened to how the winter wind guided her words gently through the falling snow, whispering it by Near as she sung them.

He was almost surprised when the song ended, and then there was this awkward silence that followed, the newly found quiet making both the orphaned teens edgy and anxious.

"Christmas eve is the tomorrow isn't it?" Web sounded more as if she were asking herself then Near, but he decided to answer anyway.

"Yes." Despite no matter how much they said they hated each other, they always spent Christmas and Christmas Eve together. Presents were exchanged on Christmas Eve, and then they spent Christmas together, usually lying about, just talking, sometimes going out to goof about in the snow.

Near, though he would never admit it, had had many a wonderful Christmas with his troublemaker friend. They sometimes, if Web was in the mood to rent one, got an old Christmas cartoon, and they lived off of Christmas M&M's shipped straight from America.

"My room or yours this year?" He snapped back to reality quick enough to catch her question. They spent the holiday in either one's room each year, trading presents and such, usually falling asleep on accident and sleeping over. Other children thought it was weird, but that's what they were.

"Yours, I actually want to keep mine clean this Christmas." Web glared at him.

"Shove it; your room is messier than mine." She was right, actually, his had toys all over the floor, half finished puzzles and dice and action figures littered his floor, almost neglected. But the real reason he wanted to spend Christmas in her room was he liked hers much better.

Web didn't have a bed; she had a couch that she slept on, and a T.V. that sat on a low table against the opposite wall. A bathroom was stationed a few feet from the T.V., and a short coffee table sat two feet from the couch, usually clean. Bright lights hung along the ceiling, giving of a nice orange glow that stained itself neatly upon the eggshell carpet.

The reason her room looked this way was because every orphan at the Wammy's house, in order to encourage creativity, were allowed to decorate and stock their room in any fashion they liked, and the orphanage paid for it all. It was quite a wonderful idea. Brilliant, actually.

"Only sometimes." He countered her accusation, hoping he had not held out too long on doing so. By then they were trekking across the snowy lawn to that made up Wammy's front campus, and it had begun to snow more rapidly, little white flurries occasionally swirling around them.

~*~

Dinner had been quick, it had been Italian tonight, but Web was not that hungry. Instead she grabbed her food, covered it with some plastic wrap, and shoved it in the minifridge she had had installed into her room recently.

"Hello Warren." She mumbled as she came in, flicking on the lights and hopping onto her couch. Warren was her white King Crowntail, a type of fish with lengthy spines stretching from its back and exterior. Web had found it while wondering a pet store one day with Roger's permission, saw it, thought of Near, and bought it quickly for a fair price. She let out a long sigh, splayed across her couch like a dead person, and looked at the beta swimming calmly in his fish tank. "I had a loooong day. I went shopping, was almost molested by a man on the bus, I braved a busty clothing store clerk, and Near asked me to sing." Warren floated over to her and tapped his nose on the glass twice, as if encouraging her to go on. He knew she was troubled, of course, because when she was troubled her London accent _really _came out, growing heavy on her tongue no matter how long she had been living in this isolated place. Of course she had always had it, ever since she was small when she lived in a tall house with Mum and Dad. Until they died, that is.

She hadn't been to her home town since, almost frightened of the things she'd remember. Web remembered rain-slicked streets, and her mum holding her hand. Her mum had black hair too, and it reached to her chin, curling beautifully to frame her face. Green eyes contrasted with lipstick coated lips, making her look absolutely perfect. She was clutching a brolly in one hand, and holding Web's in her other. A black coat, a stylishly lopsided black hat, leather gloves. Flashes of images whirled through web's mind, making her clutch her head in pain.

"Stop!" she screamed, sitting up to grip her head in between her knees, "Stop it!" and then it was over. Sleep hit her suddenly in the face, and she drifted off, lying back down on the couch.

~*~

Near had come to visit Web that night, seeing as she left so suddenly from dinner, but he found her asleep on her couch, lights still on.

"Evening Warren." He whispered, passing the beta's tank in his quest to find a blanket to cover up Web. To no avail as he soon found out. "Warren, do you have any idea where your owner keeps her bloody blankets?" The white fish floated there for a moment, as if he were thinking, and then began to swim in a steady circle, over and over again, making small ripples in the water. Believing that animals had more intelligence than scientists gave them credit for Near decided to humor the beta, and he walked in a circle in the same section of the room that Warren was swimming around in in his fish tank.

Then, to his great happiness, he spotted the corner of a blanket hiding out behind the T.V., and he snatched it up, striking a heroic pose. Yes, this is how he acted when others weren't around. Carefully he snuck over to Web's sleeping form and draped the blanket over her, pulling it so it covered her completely.

With that he hurried to the door, whispered a sound thank you and goodnight to Warren, and turned off the lights.

~*~

Both slept peacefully that night, dreaming of instances that had happened _years _ago, memories from their childhood. And both found that they woke up singing the song Web had been so wistfully humming as they walked through the miles off falling snowflakes.

~*~

Yay, I made Web sing. I know this was a really boring chapter, but the next chapter after this is going to be CRAZY and interesting, and the "X" in "NearXOC" fanfiction will finally come into play. Review, no flames, most of us here are civil people.


	4. linguistics

Ok, last chapter, which will in fact be broken into two parts. Web's Sue-ish self will probably come out towards the end of the chapter, you've been warned. Hope you like.

~*~

Winter was cold, that was just a dead on fact, and Web couldn't stand it as she trudged bravely through the two and a half foot layering of snow, not able to feel if her toes even existed anymore, let alone her nose and ears.

Meteorologists lie. A lot. "Just around forty degrees they said," she muttered, her words coming out in little misty puffs in front of her, freezing in the air, "no more snow, nice weather they said. Well where's the bloody weather now?" They said sun. It was a leaky gray overcast up above. They said no snow. Well then what in the hell were all those horrid little flakes of white shedding themselves from the congestion of grey puffy things that crowded across the whole damn sky? Not even a streak of blue or a splotch of sunshine. Just gray. Not that Web minded, of course, she actually loved overcast days in the winter such as this one, but she enjoyed from afar, tucked up nicely on the couch wrapped in a loosely knotted shall and some toe socks, clutching a children's fairytale book to her chest.

But today she was not a safe distance away, separated from it by the walls of the orphanage and the glass of her window, she was living in it. The white sheen of glittery snow that covered England reached up to her knees, forcing her shins and calves to grow terribly, terribly cold, just on the brink of resounding numbness. _I'm gonna kill the git who predicted nice weather._

But you know whose fault this all really was? Near's. Of course it was Near, who else would be at fault in such an excruciating situation? Of course Web had tried to be a nice orphan and tried to get him a present, which is a feat she had recently accomplished, and she would have gone earlier too, if it were not that he was continuously popping up everywhere and scaring her chances of slipping of and purchasing it.

Web gritted her teeth as she trudged on; at least she _had_ the present. She didn't know what she would do if she hadn't picked it up. Today was, in fact, Christmas Eve, and she had to creep into her room before Near came over, wrap up his present, and filch a bow and some ribbon from an unsuspecting orphan. That was done easily enough, of course, because Web had many skills. And one of them was indeed master lock-picking.

On and on she marched through the falling snow, set on making it home and making up Near's present before she caught pneumonia and died.

~*~

"Have a nice walk in the snow?" Rommy was in one of the common rooms when the half-frozen, snowflake dusted Web came hurrying in through the door, slamming it behind her and leaning against it, enjoying the sudden warmth that engulfed her at her entry. Then she opened her eyes and glared at him.

"Stuff it you twit, I'm in no mood for your mocking." He stood up and strolled casually towards her, watching her slip of her boots and hang her scarf and jacket one of the one hundred and three wrought iron clothing hooks that occupied one of the massive walls of the entry hall.

"Ah, but it's so fun to mock you, mon cherie." Again she glared, her gaze verging on smoldering.

"Je ne suis pas ton cherie." They often talked like this, in fluent French, even though Rommy was originally from Finland, and you could tell too.

Rommy had blinding blond hair, for one thing, and he was always pushing the flax-like strands out of his eyes, running his hand through the fair-colored mop. He had fair skin as well, pasty and white, and a slight dusting on light brown freckles on the bridge of his nose. Rommy was also a year older than her, and if you asked her if they were friends she was likely to shrug, not knowing the answer to that herself.

"Yeesh, a rossz hangulat?(in a bad mood?)" _Hungarian now?_ Web grinned, eager to except his challenge; _Two can play at that game._

"Ano, ted' bud' zticha. (Yes, now be quiet.)" Rommy looked at her with his exceptionally attractive features for a moment, then gave a defeated sigh.

"Alright, alright, you win. But that's only because you studied Czech and I didn't, big deal." Web walked with him down the hall, glancing occasionally at the many paintings and old pictures hung on the walls, ones that she had grown up gazing at.

"Oh!" she clapped her hands, making her companion give a short jump, "That reminds me. Would you mind if I borrowed some present wrapping materials?" Rommy glanced at her and gave her an evil grin.

"Only if you give me a kiss on the cheek." Web just glared.

"They should've renamed you Rotty not Rommy you shameless perv."

"What about you? You go the worst new name of all next to Near's. I mean, Web? What the hell kind of name is that?"

"I didn't pick it ok? Now let me use those materials or I'll knock out another tooth." The first one he'd lost really hadn't been her fault, they'd been playing tag and he'd tripped and fallen on the asphalt teeth-first. At his demand he'd gotten a glass tooth installed in his gum, the strongest glass ever made. He took it out for eating and sleeping though, and yet many children at the orphanage were still awed by it.

Rommy turned to her and grinned, showing his pearly whites.

"Alright, I'll take you." And off to his room they went.

~*~

Web had wrapped the present in Rommy's room just in case Near decided to bust in on hers and now she was leaving, spilling her thank you's to her only other friend there at the orphanage.

"Hey, no problem. Just helping out so I wouldn't have to get another glass one." She smiled at his joke, her cheeks no longer freakishly rosy from her earlier tromp through the snow.

"Oh! I almost forgot." Web stood up on her tippy-toes and kissed Rommy's warm cheek, knowing her lips must be awfully cold. The Finnish boy touched his face with his hand, pale green eyes growing wide.

"You…that…"

"That," Web said, grinning ear-to-ear at his surprise, "was my Christmas present from me to you." With that she walked away, skipped actually, happy at how shocked Rommy had been and how happy Near was going to be when he received her present tonight.

The giddy girl turned around one last time and blew the blonde a kiss, winking teasingly. Rommy pretended to catch it held it to his heart, making an exaggerated expression of love, teasing her back. He gave a slight wave as he watched her disappear to her separate hallway, different from his granite-floored one, lined with the biggest windows you'd ever see on the opposite wall that let in all the late-afternoon winter sunshine.

"All this Christmas cheer is going to her head." The Finnish seventeen-year-old mumbled to himself, leaning against the white-washed door frame, "She's almost like…Saint Nicholas. All jolly and skippy." He entered his room and closed the door behind him, deciding not to take that kiss the wrong way just yet. _Besides, _he thought, bringing his hand to his cheek once more, feeling where her cold lips had touched, _isn't she in love with Near? _

~*~

Alright, this is the end of part one of this chapter. Part two will be released shortly. Review mon copains! Review! Je vous en prie!


	5. holly doesn't grow here

Alright, I'm pretty sure this is the last chapter, and if not, I'll tell ya, k? Enjoy the fluff.

~*~

Web had decided she hated clocks. Why? Because they went so damn slow when you needed them to be fast!

She had been sitting cross-legged on her couch, eagerly awaiting Near's arrival. Web rocked back and forth, blew bubbles with her gum, sang, and lazed around, waiting for sheep boy to come and celebrate the holiday with her. Now she was upside-down on her couch, feet pressed against the wall and head handing of the front of the sofa, letting all the blood rush to her head.

She had made sure Near's present was safely tucked away behind Warren's fish tank, hard to see from almost every angle. Everything was set up. A small glass bowl of red and green M&Ms sat mockingly on her coffee table, and an old cassette version of Rudolf the Red-Nosed Reindeer was stationed on top of her T.V.

Yes, everything was ready, but where was he? The annoying device humanity called a clock told her it was 6:45. Near should been there forty-five minutes ago. Web sat up, no longer able to stand the throbbing of her temples caused by all the blood, and she rubbed her forehead, pushing back her bangs from her face before letting them fall back down again. _He forgot. _She thought with a shrug, trying to make herself believe that she didn't care, _He really did._ The dark-haired girl let out a sigh that sounded more sad than indifferent, _ah well._

She slid off the couch onto the carpet, she liked sitting there more than the couch anyway. What was she going to do now? What she would normally do at this time of evening. Read a fairy-tale. Play the American computer game Quake. Just keep herself away from boredom.

Web jumped. _I know! I'll work on that book Winsley's been bothering me about. _At this thought she dragged out her old laptop she'd ordered a few years ago.

"Hullo Marcus. Care to let me in?" she whispered, stroking his top tentatively. At this the computer opened, triggered by its voice recognition device. That was her password. "Good boy." Another password. The screen that had once been a lifeless black suddenly bloomed back into color, like ink bleeding into paper. It required yet another password, this one typed by hand. Her hands flew skillfully across the keyboard hitting all the keys in one swift motion with all ten fingers. Marcus opened up her cluttered desktop, littered with icons of every shape and size. Most of them were document folders filled to the brim with possible book beginning for her deadline. "Lovely." Web breathed, double clicking on a tiny icon in the corner titled 'Fantasy Library'.

This certain icon was small and in the corner because she meant to hide it, just in case someone broke through all her passwords. But that wasn't even possible, for when she stroked the top she was really stroking a small, hidden DNA pad, along which she left a trail of her skin's oils. Yes, she may have ordered this computer, but certainly not off of eBay or Amazon.

There was a story in there she had been working on called 'Tasting Air' which she hadn't gotten particularly far with. But this was going to be it, this was going to be the bestseller of all her bestsellers. Her eyes drifted to the page before the Table of Contents, reading it for the hundredth time since she had typed it.

_For N,_

_Who is not air, invisible and flavorless, but more like mist, something nearly transparent that is not without a taste, just with one that has not been discovered yet. Not like air, which does not have a color, but like fog, whose color has been forgotten, but still has the chance of remembering._

She read it a second time before continuing to the page upon which she had left off, adding a sentence to the newly created paragraph.

Web was just about to zone out and fall into a writing spell when suddenly there was a knock at her door.

"Bullocks!" she hissed, angry to have been disrupted from her work. Another knock sounded from the door. "Alright!" she yelled, whispering Marcus's locking password so no one could get in, closed him, and slid him into the little slot she had cut into her wall underneath the couch with Xanni's old samurai sword. Indeed, Web was quite the elaborate person. "I'm coming!"

Quickly she pushed up off the carpet and sauntered to the door, pulling it open with a "The hell you want?". Web _was_ about to spew another chain of nasty insults until she took a look at her disruptor. Near stood before her, two bruises on one side of jaw and a cut above his eyebrow. His white pajamas, too, looked a little worse for wear.

"Evening Web." She opened the door all the way, welcoming him inside.

"A good evening to you too." Her hand fluttered to a tear in the fabric near his shoulder, "Xanni and Piathes again?" He shook his head grimly."Sespin and Piathes?" at this he nodded and Web closed the door behind them, helping him to the couch. She gave him a hard look. "What did you say to them this time?" Near gave her an innocent look.

"Whatever do you mean?" Web raised an eyebrow and grinned. "Alright, alright. I simply reminded them that a man is made of what he emits. For them, it is urine." Web laughed out loud.

"No wonder they've bashed you to bits, you insulted their already low population of brain cells. But you should've fought back you big-eyed cow! I know you're stronger than you look." She sighed, wiping away a drop of blood making its way to his eye, "And now I've got patch you up." Web stood from the couch and plodded over to the bathroom, turning around when she reached the door. "Well, you coming or not?"

~*~

Finally Near was all patched up with two bandages stretched across his eyebrow cut. The two of them sat on the couch, Web sewing up the tear in his shirt with a dull needle and some thick black thread she found in her medicine cabinet, which was originally meant for stitches.

"You know, I've only had to use this thread once before," she said conversationally, stabbing the needle through the fabric, "I had to give myself stitches so no one would get in trouble." Near was silent, but she knew he was listening. "Mello pushed me into a fence, and I scraped the barb wire. I sliced open my leg, and there was so much blood, but he threatened you, did you know?" The white-haired boy perked up at this. Mello had injured Web? "And you know how I don't like trouble. So, I came home crying, sat up on the sink, alcoholized the cut, and tried to sew myself up. Of course I did a god-awful job though, and I swore a lot."

"When was this?" Near's voice was hoarse.

"A few months before Sespin ate mud. Remember, cause he took that toy you gave me a while ago?" Web laughed, "That was great." Near looked at her with his light brown eyes, studying her easy features.

"That toy, do you still have it?" Web looked up from her stitchery.

"Hm? Oh yeah," she pulled it from her pocket, handing it to Near for inspection, "all the time." Near looked up at her, and he felt his pulse quicken. She'd had it? All these years? He listened again as she laughed at his surprise. Near couldn't take his eyes off her, how happy she looked, how faultless, how-

_Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong! Dong! _The huge Wammy house clock tower bellowed out eight ground-shaking tolls, promptly informing them it was eight o'clock in the Winchester countryside. Web clapped her hands delightedly, pulling away from Near for she had been sewing his shirt while it was still on him, the stubborn teen had refused to take it off for repair.

"Present giving time!" The dark-haired girl really did sound like a child on Christmas Eve. "Come along Near, we'll go to your room so you get your present, I'm sure you didn't stop by after getting beaten to a pulpy Near-sized ameba by 'Cesspool' and Piathes." Near shook his head.

"You are correct, I didn't." Web grinned.

"Well, come along, let's go." And they set off down the hallway.

~*~

Web sat cross-legged on the floor, grinning gleefully. Near had said he would need to borrow her bathroom for a few moments in order to deliver her present efficiently and she was just dying to find out what it was. And then, he emerged. And it was magnificent.

He stood before her, as if a jealous angel had pushed him off a cloud to chance a fall in the human world. Near wore faded jeans along with a baggy, red and orange striped fuzzy sweater, along with a matching scarf. A Santa hat sat atop his head, tousling his white locks. He was adorable.

"Merry Christmas…?" he fiddled with his sweater, looking slightly uncomfortable in his newly found attire.

"It's wonderful!" Web gushed, her cheeks flushed with joy. Since when did Web gush? To Near's surprised she jumped up and hugged him, engulfing him with cheerful warmth. He stumbled back a bit from impact.

"I-I…y-you were always telling me about how I should wear normal clothes so…" he trailed off, weakly hugging her in return. Web finally pulled away, a bit embarrassed at her sudden rush of emotion.

"It's a great present." She said, still grinning widely. Near jumped as if he'd remembered something.

"Here." He handed her a lump wrapped in brown packaging, which she curiously opened. It was a sweater and scarf exactly like his, only hers was striped green and white. She looked up, smiling ear to ear.

"Harry Potter, right?" a long time ago the two had read the books, eagerly gobbling them up one after another. Web joyfully pulled the sweater on and wrapped the scarf around her neck. "I love it." And, for the first time in eleven years, Near smiled for her. It was so relieved, so…happy. And she smiled back, her eyes glinting in the light. Couldn't they stay this way, standing like this? Only in a dream.

"Oh! I almost forgot I was so happy, I have a present for you too! Here, wait a sec." Web hurried over to Warren's tank and pulled Near's present out from behind. "I feel bad now because your present is so much better than mine. I really hope you like it." He pulled the ribbons away and peeled off the wrapping paper, being careful not to tear it too much. He held up the present, reading the title out loud.

"A 3D puzzle of Chicago consisting of more than 8, 631 pieces, parking meters, lampposts, and cars included. It's…interesting."

"But!" said Web, tapping the box, "We have to do this puzzle together, got me? No going off and doing this all by yourself." Near just nodded, still studying the box and instructions. Web knew he liked it; he would've tossed it away already if he didn't. She smiled to herself. "Merry Christmas Near. Now, I think this calls for some nonalcoholic eggnog and stolen Christmas cookies." Near looked at her, even if his mouth wasn't smiling his eyes were.

"Agreed."

~*~

They wandered back to the room, Near carrying the carton of eggnog and Web carrying a make-shift bag made of Saran wrap filled with cookies they'd filched from the kitchen.

"That was a great feat." Laughed Web, walking gleefully with a bounce in her step, "Everyone went for those cookies. Did you know I got to kick Xanni in the back? Priceless."

"It was quite amusing." Near replied, shifting the carton in his arms. They stopped in front of Web's door.

"Well, here we are. Time to enjoy the spoils of battle." She unlocked her door with the old Victorian key she kept around her neck, leaning in close so it opened. The two unsuspecting teens walked in, and nothing seemed to be wrong, at first. Until they noticed the sadistic plant hanging above their heads. Web gave a frustrated sigh upon noticing it. "Mistletoe? Damn it Piathes! He must've picked the lock and hung it up there while we were gone." She reached up and pulled it down, closing the door behind her. "Just ignore it Near."

Near felt something he was not accustomed to shoot through him. Anger. Just ignore it? _Just ignore it?_ He knew the European tradition behind that plant and in truth, though he didn't know why, he felt hurt that Web refused to carry this tradition out. He couldn't even control his emotions now, less understand them. What was so bad about him? Was something wrong with him? He bet she would've kissed Rommy, or even Sespin, but not him. Before he could stop himself his foot shot out, tripping her so she fell to the floor nose first.

"Ow Near! What the hell is your problem?!" she said, a hand cupped over her pained nose as she sat up, cookies discarded. He had begun to freak out, he was no longer in control of his body motions any more, nor the things he said.

"My problem, is that you are an emotionless lump of clay. Therefore, it causes you to not care about other people's emotions." Web's face was blank for a moment.

"What?" This just fed Nears disdain and flaring anger.

"It would've hurt you to make contact with me, wouldn't it? Foreseeable, you would likely burst into flames." Web was silent again before speaking.

"You mean…kissing you? You think I don't want to kiss you, is that what you think? Are you crazy? Do know long I've wanted to do that? But I-" she had spoken without thinking, spitting out her feelings like a slot machine gone haywire. And now she scooted over to the coffee table, grabbing a handful of M&Ms and shoving them into her mouth, shutting herself up. Near searched her with his eyes.

"…what?" Web looked away, trying to look at anything but him, but she found she could not. She gave a defeated sigh and swallowed the M&Ms in one gulp, clearing her mouth for talking.

"You heard what I said." She muttered quietly, studying her bitten nails as if they were the most important thing in the world. Once again Near lost control of himself, as if he were slipping into someone else's body and watching from afar. Web had lain down on her side, curled inwards a bit, her gaze glued to the couch. And he knelt down next to her, trying to force her to look at him. It didn't work, she was too distressed. So he tried another tactic.

Slowly he too lay down on his side, facing her, finally catching her gaze. She opened her mouth to speak.

"Near I'm sorry that I-" she stopped herself when she noticed how close he had come, now only a feather's breath away from her face. "I…" her voice refused to finish the sentence, Near wasn't moving but he was terribly, painfully close, much to close for her to control herself. She pressed her lips against his, closing her dark eyes so she wouldn't have to see his brown ones staring into hers. _Please, _she thought, her heart beating at an unhealthy speed, _don't pull away. Don't reject me. _

And he did not, in fact he closed his eyes, following suit, feeling her warm lips against his. What was he supposed to do in a situation like this? What _could_ he do? She was kissing him, she was _finally_ kissing him, and he couldn't move, couldn't do anything. His heart pounded against his ribs like an angry inmate banging against prison bars, screaming for him to do something, _anything_, and then Web saved him. Again.

He felt her hand find his wrist and she put his palm to her hip, patting it to say _Keep it here. _He awkwardly scooched closer to her, not wanting anything but to be near her, to remain like this with his lips against hers. He felt her hand upon his upper-arm and her other underneath his neck, feeling his jumping pulse. And that was it. That was all he needed for all his hormones to suddenly trigger themselves like missiles from their docks.

He wrapped his entire arm around her waist, pulling her as close as he possibly could, and he no longer felt awkward, he felt happy. Web mumbled something against his lips, and he had to strain his hearing to catch it.

"Mrry Chrsms." All the vowels were muffled out of existence, but he knew what she had said.

"Mrry Chrms." He mumbled back, opening his eyes briefly to gaze at her closed ones, studying her black eyelashes before closing them again. _Merry Christmas indeed. _

Plants are_ so_ stupid.

~*~

The End! Did you like it? Hate it? Review! You must! The power of NearXOC compels you! COMPELS! Ahahaha! And yeah, I know Near was OOC towards the end but whaddya want from me? Review? No flames, as you already know. Fluff is niiiiiiiice.

-Valkyrie


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